Emerson
I have a new wife.
I pick up my dumbbells and start another set. It’s important for me to repeat that to myself as often as possible. Not that I can forget the woman whose things are all over my living room waiting to be organized. Whose sweet scent is already invading every room in my four-bedroom house.
The house, by the way, that is now boasting a new loveseat, several lamps and a dozen colorful throw pillows. Not to mention the dishes, artwork and odds and ends that all scream “Woman!” but have never been a part of my decorating scheme until now.
No pink rugs or doilies, but it’s still going to take some getting used to. I hope the boys don’t make too much of a fuss when they see all the changes tomorrow. But they’re young and more adaptable than I am.
At least she hasn’t touched this garage. Not that I could fit much more in here. It’s already crowded with my weights, holiday decorations, gardening equipment and a laundry room. But if anyone could find a way to put their unique, irresistible mark on it, it’s probably Tanisha.
This is going to take some getting used to.
It’s nowhere near as difficult as sleeping beside her without touching has been. Last night was the closest to torture I’ve ever come. If I hadn’t caught her vulnerable expression after she took off her prosthesis, instantly covering herself before I could see her, I might have made a move.
I have to be smart about this. As far as she’s concerned, this is simply part of the arrangement. She doesn’t know I already want more. She needs to get to know me better first. Trust me with her doubts and fears. With her body.
I’ve never been that good at slow seductions, but desperate times…
I grunt as I pick up a heavier pair of weights. This has always been my way to relieve stress. I spend more time curved over a desk than I’d like, dealing with financial discrepancies. I need a way to keep myself in shape, and this has always done the trick. Now it’s helping with a different type of stress.
This stress is Tanisha induced and purely physical in nature.
If it were a normal itch that needed to be scratched, it wouldn’t be this difficult to resist her. I could have put a lid on it to save for later. I wouldn’t have gotten hard when she bent over to fill the dishwasher after I made breakfast. Wouldn’t have been forced to swallow a moan when her insanely oversized nightshirt slipped over her shoulder and revealed her bare skin.
I wouldn’t be imagining the things I’ve been imagining nonstop since I carried her over the threshold and into my house. There is nothing romantic, nothing skilled about my fantasies when it comes to my new bride. It’s as if her innocence is tempting me to defile it in the dirtiest ways I can dream up. And I can dream up a hell of a lot.
I tug off my shirt and wipe the sweat off my face before tossing it on the mat beside me. Think about something else.
I could think about all the messages I have on my phone, each one from a different sibling demanding to know what the hell is going on with me. That should do the ardor-cooling trick.
From Bronte: Are you in some kind of trouble?
From Robert: Is she pregnant?
From Shelley: Joey’s roommate? You dog. roflmao
From Thoreau: Aren’t you supposed to be the boring one?
From Hugo: Did you pull a Bronte? Because we can call Tanaka.
From Austen: Royal wants to talk to you. I’m trying to distract him with fake pregnancy cravings. Will keep you posted.
Royal is more than welcome to come over, I think as I heft my weights and do a few angry lunges. He can watch me kiss my wife until she forgets his name.
That’s great. Pick a fight with the only guy in the family who can bench press you.
I’m sure my mother would be even happier with me than she is right now. I’ve been married twice, and she didn’t get a wedding out of it either time.
Maybe we should have spent more time introducing Tanisha to the family. Letting them get to know her before we had that quick, unsentimental ceremony. But she was determined to make it happen as swiftly as possible, and kept reminding me of the upcoming deadline.
That’s what should be on my mind. The only thing. Not the way she pushes her hair behind the delicate shell of her ear. The smile that always lights her eyes when she talks about her best friend, or the agency she puts so much of her energy into because it’s like her child. That’s what she called it—their baby.
I wouldn’t have minded giving her one of her own, but according to the part of her file I shouldn’t have read, she can’t have children. I know Barry wanted a little brother or sister, and she’d asked about that, but it wasn’t a deal breaker for me. She was all I wanted.
It only means we don’t have to be as careful. We’ve had our blood tests. I can take her bare. Nothing but skin on skin.
“Damn.”